


The burning question

by ChocoNut



Series: Tales of love (Season 3/4) [26]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Morning After, Post a drunken fuck, Sexy Times, Sometime after 4x1, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24021583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Jaime wakes up one morning to a hangover, a naked Brienne in his bed and feelings he'd never faced before.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Tales of love (Season 3/4) [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483640
Comments: 12
Kudos: 114





	The burning question

Jaime woke up to find the wench perched at the edge of his bed, naked, but for the sheet pulled up to her breasts. 

He exhaled deeply, mulling over what had gone by. So much, they’d been through last night. So real, it had been, yet, a lovely dream, he feared, it might all turn out to be, waking him up any moment, throwing him back to where he’d been before it had all begun.

Rubbing his throbbing head, he measured his next words, worried how to bridge this gap of sobriety between them. “Wench,” he whispered, when the initial sense of awkward anxiety had passed. But what was he to say to her? He had taken a lady’s maidenhead, for fuck’s sake, and if he fucked up this first and last chance he had with her, he would never be able to live with the regret of never telling her how he felt about her. “Brienne,” he called again, a little louder this time.

As soon he’d spoken, she leapt off the bed in a hurry, realizing he was awake. “I must leave.” She sounded odd, like she was suffering from a bad throat. “If your father or sister or anyone else finds me here like this--”

“Don’t you think we ought to talk about it first?” Without bothering to cover himself, he got up and strode over to her side, to meet her eyes, to determine what was in her mind. He caught her wrist and pulled her back when she bent to pick up her small clothes he had carelessly kicked away under the bed. “Stay. Another few minutes in my company isn’t going to sting.”

While she did oblige him, she turned away, her eyes safely out of the reach of his, her fingers securely wrapped around the knot on her chest as if the sheet might shift on its own accord and betray her modesty any second. Not that her worry was unwarranted, but was last night so insignificant that it wasn’t even worthy of a sober mention? To him, it had been everything but a drunken fuck. The wordless consent in her desire-struck eyes, the mad scramble to his bedchamber, their clumsy attempt to undress each other, their first wet sloppy kiss, the way they’d pounced on each other, leaping into bed, caressing, squeezing, nibbling and licking every bit of skin they could reach - every inch of the beautiful path he’d walked with her last night told him, very loudly and very clearly, that he had crossed paths with her for a reason.

It wasn’t just his body he’d shared with her. It wasn’t Cersei anymore. His destiny was intertwined with this woman’s.

The sweet nothings they’d exchanged as the night progressed towards a new dawn, the loving promises they’d made each other, the vows of togetherness they’d bound themselves to… none of it all, he’d forget throughout his life. Not even if she decided to dismiss it all as a drunken blunder and walked away from him now. Without his comprehension, he had led Brienne into his heart. Perhaps at Harrenhal. Perhaps after that. When he’d succumbed, wasn't important. What was of significance was last night, a push towards drastic action, the urge to listen to his inner voice to surrender to her. 

Blue eyes, not the familiar green anymore, he wanted to gaze into for the remainder of his mornings. Brienne’s strong arms, and not Cersei’s dainty embrace, he wanted to be wrapped in night after night. Her rough lips, he yearned to kiss again, not his sister’s smooth supple mouth.

But if he wanted it all to be known to her, he had to speak. If he wanted her, she had to know she was loved. Wholeheartedly and unconditionally. Clearing his throat, he decided to make a beginning. “About what happened last night--”

“I knew you’d regret it as soon as the effect of the ale had worn off.” Eyes, large and expressive and only the surface of a million secrets her heart concealed, barged into his. “I knew you wouldn’t want to look at me again once you were back to your sens--”

“What the hell are you going on about?” How could such a thought even enter her mind? “You were the one who wanted to leave, Brienne.” He approached her, but she turned away, her back to him, her pretty eyes avoiding him like he’d feared. “Why?” he asked, his fingertips just shy of her arm. “Do you regret it?”

“You have your life ahead while I’m here for Sansa,” she stated, instead, carefully, tentatively.

Ignoring her vague diversion, he repeated, “Do you regret it?” drawing close enough to breathe down her back.

“You love your sis--”

“Do you regret whatever happened between us, my lady?” He loved Cersei, but not like this anymore, not after the wench had become a permanent occupant of his mind. He didn’t care. He’d keep repeating asking until she granted him an honest answer. He let his hand rest on her bare shoulder, and with a shiver, she leaned back into him, this unexpected touch of her vulnerability infusing him with the optimism to go on. “You told me you’d stay with me forever,” he reminded her, her words carved in his memory despite his intoxication.

“And you recited verses praising my beauty,” she slowly brought up the lovely moment, dropping her guarded tone. “Of course, you were not yourself when you went on with all that--”

“You called me the most honourable man you've ever known. A true knight of the seven kingdoms.” Warmth and so many unmentionable sensations rushed into him, his mind, his heart enslaved at the thought of the delightfully bashful manner in which she’d paid him the compliment.

“That you are,” she readily agreed. He could hear the glowing smile in her voice.

“While I wasn’t entirely myself last night, I still was in there, somewhere,” he recalled with a smile. “And I also happened to ask you a question, my lady” he went on, plucking up the courage to pick up from where they had left off. “But you managed to get away without an answer, attacking me with your lips instead of your sweet words of consent.” 

He needed to know. Now. But this time too, she evaded him, answering him with a girlish giggle instead of the _yes_ he was aching to hear.

“There’s one thing I didn’t tell you last night,” he whispered, sliding his hand down her arm. “Something more important than any of this.” He drew her into an embrace and pulled her to his chest, his lips brushing the nape of her neck. “Something you ought to know before you leave this room.”

Her hand sought his, enclosing it in a firm grip. “Say it then,” she said, dragging his stump up her front, guiding it to her chest.

He wheeled her around to look her in the eye, to trap her in a kiss so torrid, she couldn’t escape. With such intense longing that burned him from within, he welcomed her surrender, his lips, his tongue, his body, impatient to finish the dance they had begun last night. He groped and fumbled with the knot on her chest and she whimpered, pushing into him, kissing him harder, deeper, calling out for more than just the mating of their mouths. 

When gone, at last, was the sheet that stood between them, her skin melted into his… as if she belonged to him.

_Not just for last night or this morning…_

For the second time he led her to his bed. A far cry from last night, it was. No mad rush. No crutch of an ale or a wine to support him. No half-baked semi-conscious states or dulled thinking. No more excuses nor feeble reasons to keep away. And no Cersei to stand between them. It was just Brienne and him, their bodies, their minds, their hearts and souls. One for now. One forever. 

What remained from last night was their need, their unbearable yearning for one another, their desperation, their pledge to stay like this and never part. 

Last night, it hadn’t been only fucking. Nor would it be now. Or any other time.

His body sprawled on hers, he caught her mouth in slow simmering passion, and she moaned, wrapping her limbs around him, nudging her hips closer. She kissed him back with ferocity, her tongue parting his lips and demanding her right, her fingers digging into his back. She arched into him, teasing his erection, urging him to make her his, and eager to take this a step beyond their last time, he pushed back into her, hard and aching and desperate to fill the void within her, devouring her with a aggression that drove him insane. Blinded by a furious determination to plunge into her hot depths, he wanted make her writhe and whimper, to feel her squirm beneath him, to hear his name fall off her helpless lips.

But instead of going all the way, he pulled back from the kiss. There was something more important he had to do first.

“I love you, Brienne,” he panted, gently wiping away a stray drop of perspiration on her forehead. “And now--” he paused to plant another kiss on her swollen lips “--would you kindly do me the favour of answering my question and put me out of my agony?”

She playfully tousled his hair. “When you expressed your wish I was sure it was the ale talking--”

Jaime kissed her again, cutting her teasing mid-way. “Yes or no, my lady?”

“Oh gods, yes!” she breathed, guiding his cock into her entrance. “ _Yes,_ ” she gasped again, raising her hips to meet him when he thrust into her. “Yes, I will marry you, Jaime.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and do let me know if you enjoyed it :)


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